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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917915">Liminality</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Rust/pseuds/Miss_Rust'>Miss_Rust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rites of Passage [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Tormund, Chieftain Jon, Chieftain Tormund, Cock Worship, Consent, Domestic Bliss, Explicit Sexual Content, Free Folk culture, Jon being a chief essentially, Long-Term Relationship(s), Love Bites, M/M, Not Beta Read, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Sleepy Sex, Small Identity Crisis ?, Switching, Top Jon Snow, Topping from the Bottom, Traditions, and then very hot smut, i guess?, soft smut, they're married, this is what this is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:27:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Rust/pseuds/Miss_Rust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Liminality: The transition (liminal) phase is the period between states, during which one has left one place or state but has not yet entered or joined the next.</p><p>Jon and Tormund deepen their plans to get jewellery imbued with magic, the highest bond possible to make in a Free Folk marriage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rites of Passage [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Liminality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louhetar/gifts">Louhetar</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This lovely piece I have written for my dear friend @louhetar, for her birthday! I hope you enjoy it, love!<br/>This is for you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon stares down, down at the pin in his hands. The direwolf pin that Sansa had given to him when he had left for the Great Beyond, for forever.</p><p>
  <em> "It belonged to Father. Keep it safe."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I will."  </em>
</p><p>It's the last material thing that he still owns which would brandish him as a southerner, as a Stark.</p><p>But he is not a southerner, not really, not anymore. </p><p>He is free now. Joined in blood and bond, with his husband. Made chief by proxy, through marriage. Not quite ruling, but still in charge, helping, building, planning, protecting. Making sure everyone is safe.</p><p>Free, and theirs. But Jon always had been theirs, somehow. Belonged to the Free Folk.</p><p>And he wanted. He wanted so badly to be theirs. To be Tormund's.</p><p>And yet, here he still had it, the metal pin in direwolf shape in his hands.</p><p>It meant a lot to him. He never wanted to just, let go. It was important to him. He was still a Stark, deep down, and he'd never stop being one.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>And yet he held the pin in his hands, contemplating.</p><p>"Jon?"</p><p>Warm hands, settling on his hips, a broad body slotting in behind him, close.</p><p>His husband. Tormund. Slayer of Giants, Chief of the Antler River Settling. His friend, his lover. His confidant. His anchor in the big storm of life.</p><p>"What's that?"</p><p>"Pin. You slide it into your shirt to show which house you belong to."</p><p>"Huh. Direwolf, should have guessed."</p><p>"It belonged to my father."</p><p>"Why are you holding it? I haven't seen you wear it before."</p><p>"I'm- "</p><p>Tormund's quiet, letting him gather his thoughts, waiting for him, like always, giving him the space he needs.  </p><p>Jon focuses on the pin, on his husband's hands on his hips, and tries to let the chaos inside him subside.</p><p>He knows what he wants, he <em> knows. </em> He's just terrified of change, terrified of letting down his birth family.</p><p>But they would not want him to be unhappy. Never that. Not after what has happened to him over the course of his life.</p><p>
  <em> "You deserve to be happy." Arya, grown-up, on the battlements of Winterfell. Arya, angry, as a small child, after her mother had once again banished him from the high table. Arya, in her letter that he got not even a week ago, congratulating him for his marriage to Tormund.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Please be safe," a hug, a tight hug from Sansa, in front of the gates of Winterfell, just after she pressed the pin into his hands. Sansa, before the Battle of Winterfell. Sansa in her reply he received this week, a response to his frantic letter detailing the chaos of trying to organise before the storm.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I'm sending you North, so none of the Southerners can hurt you again. It is not a punishment, I just want you to be safe. You can return if you want, just let the Unsullied leave. Please." Bran, in his chair, looking at him sadly, where Jon's sitting on the floor in his cell, broken-hearted but hopeful. He could see Tormund again. Bran breaks into a smile, knowingly.  </em>
</p><p>It echoes inside him, and he knows that wherever they may be, his family, his ancestors, they would agree with his decision.</p><p>Tormund's humming now, sometimes dropping a kiss on his head. Patient. Loving. Safe.</p><p>"I want to melt it down." Jon finds his voice, content that it doesn't break on the words. </p><p>"Oh?" </p><p>"For our ancient ritual. The joining thing your parents did. With the magic. There's supposed to be jewellery we get pierced, the metal has to be shaped for the other, with love." Jon recites from memory but pauses before he goes on: "I cannot think of a more meaningful thing to melt down for this. I am a Stark, and I will always be, but I'm one of the Free Folk now."</p><p>"So why are you hesitating?" Tormund's voice is even, no judgement, just confused. </p><p>"I'm not. I just- "Jon tries to find the words, the <em> right </em> words. "I feel like I'm giving up a bit of myself."</p><p>"But you're not. You are giving yourself to me, for safekeeping, to show me your love. You're adding value to it, to your identity."</p><p>Tormund turns him around in his arms, looking down at him, earnestly.</p><p>"I love you, boy, but sometimes you think up the most stupid things."</p><p>Jon has to grin, a bit sheepishly.</p><p>"I guess I did overthink it a bit too much."</p><p>"So, it's decided?"</p><p>"It is." Jon nods.</p><p>A beam overtakes his husbands face, and a second later, he is being kissed, deeply.</p><p>He melts into the kiss like the icicles do on their hut when the sun comes out to shine.</p><p>They break apart, grinning at each other.</p><p>"What were you thinking of?"</p><p>"Depends on what you'd like to wear."</p><p>"You're asking me?"</p><p>"I mean, I can't very well make you a giant piece to get pierced if you don't want to get pierced", Jon explains.</p><p>"Oh." Tormund seems thoughtful, "I hadn't even thought of that."</p><p>"So?"</p><p>"I'm okay with piercings, but a small one is better than a heavy one. I want to be able to fight still, without fear of it catching somewhere. Anything bigger needs to be around my neck or arm."</p><p>"Sensible." Jon drops a featherlight kiss on Tormund's lips, barely able to reach, he has to get on his toes to reach comfortably.</p><p>"You?"</p><p>"The same."</p><p>"Sensible" Tormund echoes, with a slight grin at his parroting.</p><p>Jon whacks him over the head softly at his parroting, but smiles, fondly. An idea is forming in his head, a vision of a necklace, and a woven ring of metal.</p><p>He crowds close into the taller body, relishing in his husband's warmth.</p><p>"I asked Ulelda if she knows the magic." Tormund hums into his hair after a moment.</p><p>"And?"</p><p>"She's certain she remembers it. But she needs time."</p><p>"That's good."</p><p>"Aye."</p><p>"How long do we have?"</p><p>Tormund separates a bit just so he can look into Jon's face.</p><p>"You can take as long as you need."</p><p>"You just don't wanna end up with an ugly piece of jewellery in your ear, do you?"</p><p>Tormund erupts into a deep belly laugh, dragging Jon with him.</p><p>"Oh, I love you." He sighs, wiping at the tears of laughter in his eyes," I don't think you could produce anything ugly, boy."</p><p>"See if I do" Jon grins, and then extracts himself out of the chieftain's arms, who doesn't let him leave before he drops a kiss on Jon's lips.</p><p>"I have to go check on the east gate, I'll see you around for dinner later."</p><p>Tormund gives him a soft look and ruffles his hair before he sits down again. Jon has confined him inside for today, taking on the chieftains' duties because he feels like his husband needs some rest.</p><p>He's spending his time working away in their little hut, taking his mind of the bigger things. It works surprisingly well, with how relaxed he seems, and Jon smiles all the way walking to the east gate.</p><p>There are some repairs needed to get done in their little settlement, and today's project is the east gate. He walks past his tribe, occasionally greeting and waving. The skies are blue, and the wind is cold, but the sun warms his face.</p><p>He supervises and helps the whole afternoon, hammering some nails into wood and testing structure, but the entire time, the bonding jewellery doesn't leave his head.</p><p>A clear plan emerges in his mind, and when they get done, suddenly there's an empty space that he could fill with making some mock-up jewellery.</p><p>He's loath to melt his pin down only to fail at making something decent because he didn't know what he was doing.</p><p>Walking over to the forge, Jon settles in next to Yggstredd, their smith. Not that he really is a smith as they would have down in the south, but he does come closest.</p><p>And he possesses something akin to a forge.  </p><p>"Chief." He is greeted with a smile.</p><p>"Yggstredd", Jon replies with a nod. He will never get over people calling him chief, it's not necessarily his title, but the free folk are like that. 'You've married the chief, now you are a chief too, child' UIelda had told him after their people had started with it.</p><p>He settles in, next to Yggstredd, and starts laying on more wood onto the fire. Yggstredd is making a chain, not using it at the moment.</p><p>Jon likes him. They are both quiet workers, and Jon has always enjoyed working at the smithy, shaping metal into things. He's made many a thing, but the ones he's most proud of would probably be "Needle" that he gave to Arya or the elaborate dagger he made for Sansa, and a direwolf sword for Theon, who had miraculously survived the battle of Winterfell.</p><p>He's fairly certain of the process, of what he's doing, so he quickly sets to work. He melts down a tiny thing of metal, just some scraps lying around the area and starts shaping it quickly.</p><p>Soon enough, he has a tiny ear cuff in his hands, four tiers woven in a braid around each other, the braid that typically suggests marriage, which he carries in his hair too. To make a wolf form into a piercing would not work out well, he's not skilled enough for that, so he's scrapped the idea. What better idea than to make one that literally screams "married"?</p><p>And yet, he's happy at the sight. It's nearly dusk now, and the tribe is getting together around the big fire in the middle of the camp, preparing food for dinner. They're loud, laughing and scabbling, the children running around.</p><p>Jon walks to the biggest cabin, theirs, to catch a moment before they sit down for dinner. He wants to show Tormund his work to see if he likes it.</p><p>He finds his husband asleep, on their bed, cuddled on Jon's side, into his furs, and holding one of his light shirts. His hair is open, pooling around his face in waves of fire. </p><p>He watches for a moment, relishing the sight, before starting to get ready for dinner. His puttering about must have woken Tormund, because he grumbles softly at him. Jon moves closer, watching his redhead curl into himself on the bed. He looks so vulnerable like this. He decides to join him just for a while. They have time, about an hour until dinner starts. Today they're not involved in preparations, Ulelda has taken over for the day. </p><p>Jon settles in behind his husband, propping himself up on an elbow and starts stroking across Tormund's big back, speckled with lots and lots of freckles.</p><p>Tormund sighs, and turns over on his back. Still sleepy, eyes barely open. Jon lets his fingertips wander to his chest, even now just lightly stroking.</p><p>"S'time yet?" his husband slurs sleepily.</p><p>"No, not yet."</p><p>Jon wants to coo at him, but he holds it in. Sleepy, soft Tormund is one of his favourite sights, so he savours the moment. He's rarely so relaxed, wound up by the rebuilding of the Free Folk, so when Jon makes him stay home, he often comes back to this.</p><p>He loves it.</p><p>He's drawing small circles now, still just with his fingertips, featherlight. Randomly, tiny shivers go down his husband, it makes him so smug.</p><p>Maybe he could?</p><p>It's worth a try.</p><p>They have time. </p><p>He starts drawing more deliberate loops, gentle, airy motions, with a clear goal. He reaches one of the soft, pink nipples, and circles it with his fingertip, and makes a contented sound as it almost immediately hardens.</p><p>Tormund's still breathing evenly, dozing under him.</p><p>He moves to the second nipple, repeating the process, and now there is some more reaction. The chief shivers under him, arching a bit into his touch.</p><p>It's fascinating him.</p><p>Jon moves a bit closer, smiling when Tormund immediately curls closer too.</p><p>He lets his touch wander some more, deeper and deeper until he reaches the furs pooled around his husband's hips. Carefully, he tugs, and finally Tormund's wonderfully blue eyes open at him.</p><p>Jon grins helplessly, in love, at the soft blue eyes still so full of sleep, that look up to him in reverence.</p><p>"Let me?" he whispers, pausing at the furs, waiting for permission.</p><p>Both he and Tormund know what this request entails, they've done it often enough, but the process is so new, so intimate every time.</p><p>Tormund nods, parting his lips in a sigh, his eyes slipping shut again.</p><p>Jon sneaks his hand under the furs, stroking down and down till he finds Tormund's cock, and they both sigh.</p><p>He's hard already and stiffens more when Jon caresses down with his fingertip, up and down, featherlight.</p><p>It's always been like this when he's so sleepy and tired, and soft, his husband is incredibly sensitive to small touches like this.</p><p>Carefully, Jon nudges the furs off, so he can see more. He likes watching. And from where he is, lying there with his husband close to his chest, propped up on his elbow still, he has a good vantage point.</p><p>It's a beautiful cock, he thinks, thick, and long, but not too long, a gentle curve to it. It's quite veiny too, he notes, still caressing. He's already leaking, making the head wet and shiny. Jon dips his finger there, too, into the slit, circling around the head and spreading the wetness around.</p><p>Tormund sighs, and tries to get closer to him still, his legs drop open almost on instinct.</p><p>"Fuck, <em> Jon </em>"</p><p>He can't help but grin, this makes him so smug.</p><p>"That's the plan, love." He hums and finally leans down for a kiss.</p><p>He takes the lead, and Tormund is so pliant under him it's magnificent. He's rock hard in his breeches, but this has to wait. They need to prepare first.</p><p>With the hand that is not occupied, he reaches over to Tormund's side of the bed, where sure enough he finds their little tin of slick.</p><p>He slots in closer behind his chieftain, wrapping around his back and reaching down.</p><p>Deliberately, because now he is right next to Tormund's ear, he tilts his head, so he is breathing directly across it, and his neck too.</p><p>He takes his hand from his husbands' cock, who whines a bit at the loss, but he has to stay strong, he needs to get him prepared.</p><p>Jon taps his shoulder, indicating him to turn onto his chest, to lie face down, on his knees.</p><p>Tormund goes so easily it sends shocks down Jon's spine, and he hums appreciatively. His chieftain does have a lovely bottom. He kneads down, grabbing his cheeks and pulling them apart, but-</p><p>"Tormund, have you?</p><p>"Well what else was I supposed to do, I felt like it." Comes the imperceptibly petulant reply, and Jon is incredulous.</p><p>This makes him even harder, thinking of his dear husband pleasuring himself, using his own fingers to open himself up, only to come and get tired and sleepy and then missing <em> him </em>. Lying down on his side of the bed to smell Jon, taking his shirt-</p><p>Jon's still staring down between his husband's cheeks, and then suddenly he needs to-</p><p>"Can I lick you?"  </p><p>"Oh gods, yes please, <em> Jon </em>."</p><p>So he does. Drops his head down, as his husband arches up into him, and licks a broad stripe across it. Tormund is still slick with salve, and Jon tastes barely anything else.</p><p>He's relatively loose, and Jon can get his tongue quite deep inside already. In a matter of no time, the chieftain is gasping into their furs. Jon didn't quite intend this, he just really enjoys using his mouth, enjoys licking and tasting.</p><p>"Jon, if you don't fuck me now I'll do it meself, "Tormund threatens weakly into the pillows, and Jon hums, which sends some more shivers down the redhead's spine. He does it again, just to see if it causes the same reaction. It does.</p><p>"Jon, <em> please </em>-"</p><p>He stops, and Tormund sobs into the pillows.</p><p>Slowly, he shuffles closer between Tormund's legs and marvels at him. Tormund is nothing if not big, and on their bed, he takes up so much space. He's face down, and his hand clutch the furs, and his back is arched so beautifully. Jon feels rather small between the massive thighs, but it's like he was made to sit here. It's like they slot together, like puzzle pieces.</p><p>For a moment, Jon considers, but then he decides to just go for it. Tormund's stretched and positively dripping in saliva and slick, so he just grabs the tin to slick himself up. He hisses, looking down at his swollen cock that is not that small either. Not so thick as his husbands, but still thick, and also rather long. He's so sensitive he almost whimpers just slicking himself up.</p><p>And then, he grabs around, seeking Tormund's cock and starts to stroke while he lines himself up.</p><p>Tormund pushes back the same time he pushes forward, and it seems like it punches the breath out of him.</p><p>The fit is tight and snug, but it slides so <em> well </em> Jon has no doubts that it is fine.</p><p>"<em> Fuck </em>, fuck me, wolf, come on," Tormund pants, trying to rock back not a second later.</p><p>He is well stretched.</p><p>It feels so good, so hot, like the furnace he was working on earlier.</p><p>He grabs Tormund's ass cheeks and pulls them apart further, to slide in even deeper. It's perfect. Like this, he has leverage, and he starts fucking inside, rocking and pulling Tormund back onto him, and Tormund pushes back too.</p><p>He gyrates his hips a bit, and suddenly Tormund is yelling out-</p><p>Found it.</p><p>He keeps the angle, and this feels so good, his husband is clenching around him rhythmically, making it even tighter.</p><p>Tormund can't seem to get enough, because suddenly he moves up, trying to get more, to get him inside deeper. They're kneeling on their shins now, and Jon can't-</p><p>His husband is too big, too strong, so he just tries to not fall off the bed as Tormund seeks his pleasure.</p><p>Now his legs are spread apart, as he had looped them through his husband's when he was on his knees on the bed. Now Tormund is fucking himself on Jon, and he can't even move, just take it.</p><p>He can, however, stay in charge, because he's gripping Tormund's cock, stroking faster now, one hand on his length, the other caressing his balls, and it <em> works.  </em></p><p>Tormund convulses around him, and drops forward, pulling Jon to fall on top of him still buried deep, his hand around Tormund. They're coated white now, and Jon strokes him through it, only to pull it up and lick at it. The taste sends shivers down his spine, and he starts rocking again, now purely searching for his own release</p><p>He stays deep, using his hands to pull apart Tormund's cheeks again so Jon can slide deeper, and just rocks, deep inside.</p><p>He's throbbing, but nowhere near close yet. Rutting, small thrusts, and suddenly everything shifts.</p><p>It seems that his husband has found his breath again, and he has tilted his hips so that Jon can slide even more effortlessly.</p><p>He gasps, and Tormund clenches, and then it's like it's left loose.</p><p>Frantically, he starts thrusting, short, hard thrusts, never entirely pulling out but staying seated. He wants Tormund to feel this, later, at dinner.</p><p>Tormund is so broad his legs are at an odd angle to be able to thrust, pressed apart and it sets him off even more.</p><p>When he takes his husband, Tormund usually presses them apart, and it makes him feel dizzy with pleasure, and it's not different now. </p><p>It gets harder to keep a rhythm when he gets closer, his hips stuttering. </p><p>Tormund is crooning something, but he can't hear through the fog in his mind, through the endless slapping of flesh on flesh. </p><p>And then it is there, coming like waves over him, drowning him, taking his breath away. </p><p>He presses in deeply, instinctually, while he shakes apart. </p><p>Collapsing on the broad back, his redhead's shoulders are suddenly so close, so he sucks some bruises on there, to let out some more of the energy.</p><p>Tormund bucks up at that, and the aftershocks that sends through him leave him gasping. </p><p>He calms down, lying on the curve of his love's back, so much broader than him. Like puzzle pieces. </p><p>Tormund pulls at his legs, pulling them up, so Jon is curled around him more. </p><p>This feels so good, warm and calming. </p><p>He nuzzles at the bruises, in the nape of the chieftain's neck, and they both hum. </p><p>He's softening slowly, and he's sure that if they had more time, he could probably go again, just waiting a few moments like this. </p><p>But there's dinner. Further intimacy needs to be done after. </p><p>He moves to pull out, but Tormund interrupts him. </p><p>"Stay, just a moment." </p><p>He does. </p><p>"Can't believe you got started without me, love."</p><p>"Hmm, I wanted to surprise you when I heard the works were done, but you didn't come." </p><p>"S'that why you took my shirt?"</p><p>"Missed you." </p><p>Jon grasps for Tormund's hand, joining them. </p><p>" I went to the forge," he explains warmly, "wanted to get started on my pieces for you." </p><p>"Ah. And?" </p><p>"I wanted to show you, but then I found you waiting here and I couldn't resist." </p><p>He <em> knows </em> Tormund is smirking now, he just knows. </p><p>"I know." </p><p>"Hmmm." </p><p>"We have to get up soon, dinner will be ready, and I don't want to smell like sex." </p><p>"No one will mind, little crow." </p><p>"Still-"</p><p>"<em> I </em>might mind, maybe I want you smelling like we've fucked all evening." </p><p>"Oh?" </p><p>"I'm the chief." </p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"What if I command you?" </p><p>"<em> Tormund </em>." Jon has to laugh at his husband's antics. </p><p>"They shall know we're in love."</p><p>"Tormund, they <em> know, </em> believe me." </p><p>"Hm." </p><p>Tormund rocks back at him, and suddenly Jon knows he's- </p><p>He's hard, <em> again </em>. God, if they had time, he would, but now he's gonna spend his time at dinner hard and aching. </p><p>"Tormund, we need to get to dinn- ah" </p><p>With the strength of a bear, he's whipped around, and Tormund pushes him down on their bed. </p><p>"Oh, we'll be ready in a moment, little crow." his husband croons, sending shivers down his spine. </p><p>"I'm gonna fuck you. Okay?" </p><p>And fuck it, he wants to. Wide-eyed, Jon nods, and not a second later he has a lapful of gigantic, ginger, unruly man. </p><p>Tormund guides him in, the slide easy from slick and spit and come, and then kisses him, sticking his tongue in. </p><p>Jon whimpers and tries to grasp for Tormund's length, but he's still soft. </p><p>"M' not that young, love. Let me make you feel good, Jon." Tormund searches for his eyes, "you can make it up to me after dinner." </p><p>Jon starts grinning, but then his husband makes a fluid downward motion and his reply gets choked off, so he swears instead. </p><p>"You're gonna come for me, love." </p><p>Tormund starts riding him, slowly, just the way he likes it, and this position is even better. </p><p>He loves being dwarfed by Tormund, to succumb to him, even more than to dominate him. </p><p>But he also loves having his dick buried deep into Tormund's ass. </p><p>Tormund starts pressing him down, and moves one hand to lie on his throat, not pressing, just holding. </p><p>This one comes quite alot quicker, now that Tormund isn't that sleepy. </p><p>The chieftain knows him, so intimately, for years, long long years, but they haven't fucked for many of them. </p><p>It must be only 5 so far, he thinks. </p><p>Tormund knows all of his quirks, and what makes him shiver and moan and scream. </p><p>It's not surprising to him that he lasts not even half the time of their first round. He's being played like a fiddle. </p><p>And yet, it takes him by surprise, when it rips through him. </p><p>He convulses, but he can't <em> move </em>, Tormund's broad thighs pinning his hips down and his torso pinning down Jon's own. </p><p>The white hot feeling overtakes him, and he whimpers and whimpers and it doesn't cease, because Tormund keeps rocking and milking it from him. </p><p>He feels himself spill and leak deep inside, his balls are being massaged and fondled and it feels so good. </p><p>His legs are shaky and he feels like maybe it will be him that can't sit at the campfire tonight, because he can't even walk there. </p><p>"Good boy," it comes from somewhere next to his ear. "Now you're truly not gonna get the smell off before dinner." </p><p>Jon just groans in reply.</p><p>"Tor-"</p><p>"You're mine." </p><p>"I know." </p><p>Tormund pulls off, and pulls him into a hug, cuddling him close. </p><p>"I didn't hurt you?" </p><p>Jon needs to know, he can feel himself leaking out of Tormund, dripping into their furs. </p><p>"I'm fine." </p><p>"Good."</p><p>They fall back into relaxation, now Tormund is the one drawing tiny shapes onto his skin. </p><p>"Your hair's a mess, love" </p><p>"Hmm." </p><p>Tormund sets to braiding, four strands into a marriage braid.</p><p>Jon is too tired, sleepyness seeking into his bones, too tired to do Tor's so his husbands sets out to do his own as well. </p><p>"Tor?" his voice is so small, but he needs to know, "there, on the table, it's the mock-up I made. Try it on, for me?</p><p>How Tormund is so energized, he doesn't know. He could fall asleep right now. </p><p>Suddenly, Tormund's face is in front of his, leaning in for a kiss. </p><p>"It's wonderful. I love it." </p><p>Oh. He must have dosed a bit. </p><p>"I'm glad." </p><p>A second later, he feels a warm cloth cleaning him up, most of the sweat away. When he's done, Tormund rouses him, urging him to get dressed, handing him undershirts and furs and pants and boots. And then- </p><p>"I've something for you too." </p><p>A small, golden band, again, a four tiered braid, but it's sort of imprinted in the metal, and filled with glittering stones.</p><p>"Oh." Jon sighs, eyes watering. "It's so pretty." </p><p>"Want to put it on?" </p><p>"Please." Jon glances up into the baby-blue eyes, leaning into him while Tormund fiddles with his ear, and the existing piercing already there. He had gotten it a while back. Not a moment later, he feels the heavier piercing on his ear. </p><p>"Now you look like your mine." </p><p>"I'm yours." </p><p>"And so am I" </p><p>They kiss, softly, now just making sure of the other's presence. </p><p>"The real ceremony will be later, but it already feels so good to me." </p><p>They separate, and Jon nods and looks up at his kissed-by-fire husband, who holds out his hand. </p><p>"Dinner?" </p><p>"Uh-huh."</p><p>Tormund leads him out of their small cabin, to the giant campfire. They're just on time for the food to be handed out, and Ulelda throws them a warm, knowing look. </p><p>Jon settles on the floor on some furs, perfectly nestled between Tormund's thighs. The chieftain has a possessive hand lying on his sh<em> st </em>oulder as they wait for the food, and Jon allows himself to doze the entire evening. </p><p>This is it. Time on time, he feels Tormund stroke across his ear, possesively, gently. </p><p>He never wants this to pass. This is his home, his safety haven. </p><p>Jon opens his eyes, taking in their people, laughing and joking and eating. </p><p>Yes. He is theirs. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you liked it! First time writing Jon topping, so I hope it's good! Leave me some cömments lads, I love them!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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